A Fool's Dance
by Rasiaa
Summary: Despite his disability, we had it all. He took me on a roller coaster ride toward the stars and I brought him to the farthest corners of the world. I taught him how to hear the music that resonates in the wind and in the sky, and in turn, he taught me how to dance to its hidden melody. We were unstoppable. Until this.
1. after

_Here comes the angst. This takes place in present day, so their birth dates are changed. This will be a multi-chapter._

 _Suggested Listening: "Delilah" by Florence and the Machine._

 _For the "Every Wolf Deserves A Star, Wolfstar Competition" on the HPFC forum._

 _Prompts: Throne (word), Deaf!Remus (condition), Flute (word)_

 _Bonus Prompts: Raindrops (word), Zebra (word), Wipe (action), Thunder (word)._

 _Beta: rhead-a-holyc. Thank you!_

* * *

 _June 20th, 2015_

I brace myself, gripping the steering wheel tightly between my sweating palms.

If I imagine hard enough, I can almost feel Remus' cooled fingers resting quietly, lightly, on my arm, giving me reassurance. The problem with that is, since I'm driving, the thought brings tears to my gray eyes and I can hardly see the road.

I take a shuddering breath, the feel of it cooling my insides, rattling my ribcage and sending a rush through my system.

I blink to clear my eyes and feel them like raindrops on my skin: cold, harsh, and unrelenting. I choke back a sob and tighten my hands on the wheel, moving my foot to the brake to yield to the red light ahead of me. It is a blur in the night, reflecting off my windshield and nearly unrecognizable in the face of the water in my eyes and on my face. It is dangerous, driving this way, and I can almost see the disapproving glare Remus would give me if he knew.

The light changes to green and I press lightly on the gas, the car moving under my guidance, surrounding me like a prison. I can remember the first time driving, and the feeling of the car around me had scared me shitless. It's like second nature now.

I flick on the blinker and move into the right lane, not bothering to look over my shoulder since it's nearing one am and I'm the only one crazy enough to be out here. With shaking fingers, I turn it off again, and reach up to wipe the tears from my face and my eyes. More quickly fill their place and I unwittingly feel a catch in my breath and a hiccough, that closely resembles a cry, leaves my lips. I press my hand to my mouth and look around, even though I know no one can see me.

It doesn't really matter, anyway. If anyone saw me and knew, they would understand.

Driving down the road, I know immediately when to turn. Unthinkingly, I make a right turn into the subdivision, and my heart seizes in my chest. I think of turning back but my body does not obey my wishes, instead keeping the wheel centered and my foot on the gas. I make a small left turn onto another side street and then turn into the driveway of the third house.

The garden is overgrown now.

One thing Remus always made time for was the garden. He loved the bushes and the flowers and the small fountain in the front. He kept everything trimmed to perfection and the stone shining in the sunlight. It had always been a magnificent sight, like walking to the Queen's garden.

Looking at it now, what was left of my heart shatters and the pieces shred themselves further into thousands of pieces. I turn off the car and the headlights go off, so that I don't have to look at it anymore.

I take a moment to collect myself. Taking the key from the ignition with a trembling hand, I clutch it tightly in my fist as soon as I have it. I lean forward and rest my forehead on the wheel while the key presses into the delicate skin of my palm, probably indenting its shape into my skin. I bite my lip for a second before I release it, grinding my teeth instead. It stops my jaw from shaking and any sound from escaping, at least.

I breathe deeply through my nose and then lean back in the seat again, my eyes adjusting to the dark and highlighting the shadows of the garden. I run my left hand over my face and release a breath, blinking rapidly. Even without the air conditioning from my car, the air feels cold on my tongue and sharp in my lungs. I open the door and step out of the car.

I lock the car behind me and keep my head down as I walk away from the only escape, the only place of safety from this seemingly endless nightmare I'm trapped in. My boots click on the concrete driveway and then on the stone path up to the front door. It echoes in the silence and sounds awfully ominous, like I'm walking to my death sentence. I suppose, in a morbid way, that's not untrue. I try desperately to ignore the brush of leaves and branches from the bushes that hit my legs as I walk. If Remus could still tend to this garden, those branches would be gone.

I stuff my hands into the pockets of my leather jacket, pulling Remus' set of house keys from the right side. I leave my car key in their place. Stepping onto the front porch, it takes a moment to locate the correct key in the darkness, but I identify it successfully after several increasingly agitated moments. I don't want to drag this out any more than necessary, and not being able to see the damn key is only adding to my alarmingly high stress levels.

Finally inserting the key into the lock, it takes a second and some muscle to get the door open since the lock has never worked properly and Remus never got around to changing it out. It swings open suddenly, making me stumble into the foyer as it gives in to my weight and the key. Not the first time I've done that, but certainly the first time it's happened without Remus not poking fun at me for falling over.

Sighing in exasperation, I turn around and shut the door behind me, the fingers on my right hand brushing over the light switch next to the door. The hallway illuminates behind me, and I have to take another deep breath. I turn around.

Nothing has changed, and I'm surprised. I think some part of me had wanted something to have changed, even though it's only been a month. I wanted something to have been different, like it would release me from my personal hell. Like it would make this less real than I know it to be. I take a few steps forward into the hall and leave the entrance to the kitchen and the living room on my left alone. I keep my shoes on, because I'll only be a moment, even though Remus hated the dirt from my shoes to be tracked through the house. He was kind of a clean freak that way.

As I walk, I look at the familiar walls, at the pictures and paintings I've seen a thousand times but never really looked at more than once. Towards the front of the house, there are pictures of Remus and of his family, of his mother, his father, and his brother, all of them dead now. Crossing the middle of the hallway, I ignore the closed door on the right, seeing as it's only a bathroom, and instead run my fingers lightly over the mahogany wood of the thin table against the wall. I raise my fingers and see the dust particles. I'm disappointed even though I know the whole house would have at least a thin layer of dust.

I look up from my dusty fingertips to the pictures nearing the bedroom, and my throat closes as my eyes blur wetly. Framed photos of my friends, Remus, and I line the hall on either side, reminding me of the good days that really weren't all that long ago but feel like they were another lifetime. On the left, Remus is sitting on a throne while James is kneeling in front of him, head bowed. Remus has a haughty expression on his face, like he was the king of the world; with his legs crossed at the knee and his hand resting on his knee while a fake crown sits crookedly over his dirty blond hair. I can still remember how we laughed over the photo because of how ridiculous it was. I smile faintly at it and move on.

In another picture Marlene is dressed in a zebra suit while Lily is dressed as a lion and Emmeline is like a tiger. That was Halloween of last year, I recall. They're grinning like idiots. Another picture has Remus, James, Lily, Alice, and Frank standing in a line in front of a river, posed like superheroes. James is staring at the camera in a different picture with a wicked smile on his face while he has a sharpie marker in his hand and his other is pointing at me, passed out on the couch. He had, like a twelve year old, drawn a dick on my face, much to my horror and everyone else's amusement. It hadn't come off for three days. In another photograph, Remus has Harry on his shoulders and James and I on either side of him, smiling cheerfully in the summer sunlight.

The final picture, nearest to Remus' old bedroom, is a picture I don't remember having been taken. He and I are standing in front of the movie theatre, our hair plastered to our foreheads, necks, and cheeks from the rain. I have my hands on his jaw and am kissing him with abandon, while his fingers are curled weakly around my wrists. We're drenched and cold and I can remember exchanging those precious three words a few moments before. James or Lily must have snapped a picture without me noticing.

The tears come hard and fast and I am powerless to stop them. I lean on the wall as my shoulders shake and I release quiet breaths between my clenched teeth. My knees give way beneath me and I sink to the floor, but in this moment I do not care. The leather of my jacket squeaks uncomfortably loud in the otherwise silent house, and the reminder of why the house is so quiet sends me into another round of sobbing. I clench my fist and press it to my lips, trying in vain to stop. I normally never cry, not even as a child, and in the past month I've cried more than I have in my entire life. It would be embarrassing if my friends- family, now- didn't understand.

This time it takes much longer to stop than it did when I was in the car. I manage eventually, but my eyes are swollen and I feel numb. Taking deep breaths is hard and it hurts, but I take a few anyway before I pull myself up from the floor and face Remus' bedroom door. It's closed and has been for a month and a half, since he had been staying with me for two weeks before-. I take a breath. Opening it now feels like disturbing something sacred, but I've put this off long enough.

The room is exactly how he left it. The bed isn't made, because he didn't have time that morning. He woke up late that morning for whatever reason and rushed out the door. I remember him texting it to me late that evening, but the exact reasoning escapes me. I trail my eyes over the abandoned nightclothes on the floor, and the open closet with the ragged clothing inside. I look at the window on the opposite wall from the door and see that the blinds are closed- further proof that he had woken late. The bamboo plant on the nightstand is dead, having gone a month and a half without water, even though it only needed water once a week. His mother's flute from her days in the band had been knocked to the floor, probably in his rush and he, of course, had not heard it fall.

I swallow heavily and move slowly into the room, flicking on the light of the lamp and dropping to my knees beside the queen sized bed. I feel around underneath it and find the duffel bag I was looking for. I stand and lay it on the bed, unzipping it as I sit down on the creaky mattress. Impassively, I pull out a few sets of his clothes and toss them on the bed, followed by a set of nightclothes and a pair of dance shoes. I smile faintly at the sight of them and push them aside.

Bag empty, I move around the room and start to fill it. I take his mother's flute and slide it into an empty inside pocket, and a few of his personal effects. I take his lucky necklace, -a full moon charm on a thick, leather chord- his brother's ring, his father's pocket watch. I find Remus' wallet on the nightstand, which explains a lot, and take out the five hundred pounds he had in there and stuff the notes into my pocket. I move to the closet and locate a few of my shirts- Remus had taken to stealing a few to sleep in- and put them into the bag. I take the framed picture of us from the nightstand as well and the other one of us he had on the wall.

Leaving his room, I start to move frantically around the house, taking down pictures and putting them in the bag. I stop in the living room, biting back more tears as I stare at a photo of Remus and Lily. I place it in the duffel bag and then put the bag on the couch and walk into the kitchen.

Easily locating the glass cups in the cabinet, I fill it at the refrigerator and start taking long, slow drinks from it in an attempt to calm myself. I refill it every time I empty it, and by the time I'm done, I've drunk five full cups of water. I'll regret it later, I'm sure, but for now I wash it slowly in the sink with soap and tap water. With heavy eyelids, I put the cup back in the cabinet where it was before, even though it's completely unnecessary.

I walk back to the duffel bag and pick it up, swinging it over my shoulder, mindful of the picture frames inside. I walk into the foyer and open the door, uncaring of the light rain and distant thunder that greets me outside. I step onto the porch and turn around, locking the house up. I take a moment to just stand there, heart heavy in my chest, before I drop the keys into the bush next to the door and turn around to walk back to my car.

The rest of his belongings will be cleared away tomorrow morning, and I will never see it again. The thought stings, but I have what matters most.

…

Even with Lily waiting for me, my apartment on the other side of the city seems empty and dead without Remus. It's like the life has been sapped away with him. I rest the duffel bag on my mattress in the corner of the living room- I have a rather sullen two-room apartment in the poorest part of London- while she watches wordlessly from the ratty, torn flower-patterned couch that doesn't match anything else. Remus had a lot more money than I do, and it showed in our living styles, but he did not seem to care very much. He loved me anyway.

"Honey," Lily says when I drop onto the edge of the mattress with dead eyes and a vacant mind, "let me help you."

It takes a moment for the words to register, but when they do, I turn to her slowly. "How? How do you plan on helping me, when the love of my life is dead and there is nothing to be done about it?" I demand, sizing her up. She's in one of her new dresses, the soft swell of her baby bump prominent through the fabric. It kills me to know that Remus will never meet the fourth member of the Potter family, the child that was supposed to be his godchild. Her fiery red hair is tied back into a messy bun, and her emerald green eyes are tired and sympathetic as she looks at me.

She sighs, but doesn't make any movement towards me, even though I know she would like to. Instead, she gestures helplessly with thin, tired hands. "Have you been to see him?" she questions.

I wince. Of course I haven't been to see him. I didn't even go to the funeral last week, instead spending the entire day on this mattress with his blanket wrapped around my shoulders and staring at the last picture I took of him on my phone, crying. Lily knows this, of course, so she sighs again and stands up slowly. "Come on, then," she commands, and after hesitating while she gathers her coat, purse, and car keys from my two-seater kitchen table, I stand up to follow.

We make it to the parking lot soundlessly, and she walks up to my car and gets into the passenger seat, even though I had assumed we'd take hers. Shrugging inwardly, I get into the driver's seat and start the engine.

The drive to the graveyard is quiet, disturbed only by droplets of rain on the windshield, and the rolling of the tires on the paved roads. Lily stares out the window, her usual twinkle absent from her eyes. I know the baby is exhausting and that this pregnancy is worse than her first, plus the stress of Remus-

I bite my lip and turn into the graveyard, parking in the closest spot but not moving. Lily doesn't try to make me leave the car, instead watching me with quiet eyes.

After several minutes, I get out of the car and make my way around to the passenger's side, opening the door for her and helping her out. She smiles thinly at me and pulls her coat closely around her while I allow myself to get rained on.

She shakes her head when she notices and begins to walk into the graveyard. This is the last place I want to be right now, but I follow her anyway, knowing that James would likely kill me if he ever finds out I contemplated just leaving her here and going home.

We don't speak. The stone isn't far into the graveyard, just at the start of a new row, and Lily rests her fingers on it while I stare at it.

 _Remus John Lupin_

 _March 10, 1986 – May 2, 2015_

 _Seen, Heard, Remembered_

I would very much like to kill whoever came up with that catchphrase, thinking it clever to reference the fact that Remus couldn't hear anything, but for the moment all I can do is stare at the engravings. My entire being feels hollow, numb, broken, and disconnected.

Right here, right now, I decide to never come here again. Those three words can hardly sum up his life, and they make me want to scream. The thought of what all of this means is like being stabbed over and over again. I simply cannot stand it.

Lily comes forward and rests her hand on my shoulder for a moment, before she starts walking away. I press my fingertips to my lips before I lower them to the top of the stone, then turn around and walk to catch up with Lily, the silent words _I love you, I miss you, always,_ etched on my lips.


	2. questions

_I forgot to update yesterday. Why? Because I am a dumbass. Sorry about that._

 _Sirius' text/writing messages are italics. Remus' are italics and underlined, while James' are just underlined._

 _Beta:_ _rhead-a-holyc_

* * *

 _July 8th, 2010_

James hands me a ticket and I furrow my eyebrows, staring at it. "A play, James, really?" I question, laughing. He's such a girl.

But he quickly starts shaking his head. "No, mate, you don't get it. Lily has been begging me to go to this thing. It's a musical, and I really don't want to be the only guy there. That would be humiliating."

I stare at him. "You're out of your mind," I say finally, tossing the ticket onto the counter and turning back to the food.

Every week, James shows up at my crappy little apartment to "get away from the girls" and spend "quality guy time" with me. The timing usually varies, but it really doesn't matter because it is always is the same- he comes over and I cook dinner, or lunch, and then we play video games on my collapsing couch and exchange conversation. Today, he came into my apartment after calling me first- which _never_ happens- and then slammed his sorry ass down at my kitchen table and started this conversation.

James groans aloud at my response and slams his head onto the table, which I immediately start eyeing with alarm. That stupid old thing is about to break underneath the weight of James' fat head, and that is really the last thing I need. "Careful there, Prongs," I warn, waving my chopping knife in his direction.

He ignores me, no surprise there. "I really need you there, Sirius," he pleads instead, looking up at me with skewed glasses and the rats' nest he calls hair falling into his right eye. "This is going to be unbearable otherwise."

I shrug carelessly and pick up my cutting board, using the knife to scrape the onions into the sizzling meat in the frying pan on my stove. "I don't want to go to that anymore than you do, mate, and since I wouldn't have a date, it would only make it worse for me." I look up at him and drop the cutting board into the sink to be washed later while I run the knife under the tap. "Won't Lily kill you when she finds out you've invited me?"

James waves his hand dismissively. "That's why you won't be sitting next to us," he says, and I slam my hand onto the faucet to turn off the water with a little more force than completely necessary. He winces at the noise, and I stare at him, the knife clutched in my other hand tightly.

"First of all," I say, reaching around to turn down the heat on the stove while I point the knife in his direction, "I have not agreed to go to this," I wave the knife toward the ticket, "this- play- thing. Secondly, you expect me to go to this production without a date, separately from you, and entirely against my will?" I demand.

He shrugs and adjusts his glasses on his nose, then runs his hand through his hair. "I'll make it worth your while," he offers. I narrow my eyes.

…

 _July 23_ _rd_ _, 2010_

I cannot believe I agreed to this.

 _James is going to die_ , I think, looking around. The hall, where this thing is being held, is a small one, obviously not very important. Nevertheless, they have nice, cushioned seats, and decent art in the front. I grit my teeth and look down at my ticket again, locating my seat, which is in the far left section in the sixth seat of the third row. I make my way to it and wind up sitting next to an elderly couple who start glaring at me. I sit down stiffly, hyper aware of the inexpensiveness of my nicest clothes while everyone else looks like they're on the red carpet. I spot James and Lily in the front row in the center, making me roll my eyes.

I'm still coming up with creative different ways to brutally murder my best friend when the lights dim. Lazily, I move my eyes to the stage, and watch as everything starts.

The musical is decent enough, with the actors moving fluidly around the stage, singing loud enough to reach the farthest row. There are several dirty jokes slid quietly into the script, which makes me grin. For the majority of the production, I watch the different colored lights and the background pieces more than the actual actors, wondering what I did in a past life to make fate believe that I deserve this. It's not that the play is bad- it's actually very good, from the pieces of it that I do catch- but rather what it represents.

Intermission means the lightening of the room, and, while most people start getting up and heading to the restrooms or start talking, I remain seated. I watch the pianist come out from behind the curtains to move the piano to the edge of the stage, and then disappear again. He reemerges with his seat and I sigh while he places it in its proper place.

That James had been convinced- bullied, more like- into coming to this thing can only mean one thing: Lily has made her place in our lives a permanent one. He loves her and a blind man could see it, and I'm quietly terrified that her being here will mean the loss of James from my life. It's a stupid and irrational fear, I know, because he would never abandon me like that, but the thought has taken root in my brain and refuses to be dug up.

The pianist emerges from the side door halfway through the intermission, and I take the opportunity to quietly admire his ass as he messes with some chords on the edge of the stage. He unplugs a few and replugs them elsewhere, then takes out his cell phone and starts texting. I furrow my brow- shouldn't he be working? –but then he disappears behind the stage door again.

The lights resume their dimmed state when people retake their seats, and I watch the end of the musical with a detached disinterest. Instead, I keep my eyes on the pianist, how distant he seems from the music and the actors. The music he's playing is flawless, obviously well-rehearsed, but there's something- something _off_ …

The play ends- rather abruptly, it seems like- and everyone is on their feet and giving loud applause. I hurry to do the same, much to the disapproval of the old lady beside me, but I ignore her in favor of watching the pianist. Instead of moving the piano again, he just walks behind the curtain, and I don't see him again. The curtains draw to a close once the actors give one final bow, and then the crowd is talking loudly amongst themselves and filing out the doors.

Since I'm technically attending this alone, I remain in my seat while everyone moves around me. I feel my phone vibrate in my back pocket- undoubtedly James texting me- but I ignore it in favor of looking for the pamphlet I'd been handed when I arrived. I find it in my coat's inner pocket, though I cannot recall putting it there, and pull it out.

Skimming through it, I look for the name of the pianist and find it near the back of the book. It's listed only the one time- a quick, _Remus Lupin_ \- near the bottom of the page.

I get up with the last few members of the audience and notice that James and Lily are nowhere in sight. It doesn't surprise me, honestly. I walk mindlessly to the parking lot and make my way round toward the back of it, where I parked my car. On the way there, I pull out my packet of cigarettes and my lighter, setting one of the thin sticks alight between my teeth as I walk. I'm looking down, so I don't notice the other person until it's too late.

We collide painfully, and papers go flying while I start choking on smoke. I regain my bearings quickly, and dive down help pick up the papers. Once all of them are off the ground, we both stand, and I go to hand the papers back when I realize I'm standing right in front of the pianist. "Oh," I say, feeling stupid, "I'm sorry about that." He stares at me blankly and I reach around to rub the back of my neck. "Uh- great work tonight," I offer, and he blinks. His jaw clenches, and he reaches into his pocket to get his cell phone.

I frown, but he starts typing anyway, glancing up at me every few seconds. Then he holds up the phone for me to see, and I look at the open message box after giving him another glance. _I'm sorry_ _,_ it reads, _but I can't hear you. Sorry about walking into you_ _._

It comes to me in a rush of understanding. He's deaf.

I bite my lip and gesture to his phone before taking it from him. He watches me wearily, probably anticipating something negative, but I hand the phone back after a moment.

 _Ah, that's all right. You did a good job tonight._ I typed.

He blinks at it and starts typing quickly. He hands it back to me, and I try to force myself to stop grinning. I never imagined having a conversation through text message when I'm standing face-to-face with someone. I take the phone and read. _Thank you. I'm Remus. 0205554255._

I grin openly this time, handing his cell phone back to him with my number programmed into his contacts list. He looks at it and smiles at me, and I return the gesture. He flushes and his phone vibrates in his hand. Whatever is on the message he receives makes him look back up to me and then wave, brushing past me to get to a car near the edge of the lot. He looks back once, and I wave, then he turns around again and picks up his pace.

Maybe James isn't as likely to die as he was earlier this evening, I decide, getting into my car. I sit there for a moment and then start laughing quietly to myself before I stub out the cigarette in the ashtray and pull out of the lot.

…

 _Hey, beautiful._ I type two days later. I hit send before I can tell myself not to, then lean back on my couch and stare at the ceiling. There's a long crack in the middle of it that could mean trouble for me later, but I can't bring myself to care right now. James came over yesterday to thank me for showing up to the play, and I wound up gushing to him about the super-hot pianist I was texting the entire night before. James seemed hesitant about me starting a relationship with someone who could never hear me, but I brushed off his concerns. "If it doesn't work out, then at least we tried," I told him.

Barely a minute after I sent the text, I get a reply. _Hi. Please don't call me that. Not sure if you forgot, but my name is Remus._

I laugh aloud and quickly start my response. _Would you rather I come up with some other pet name?_

 _I'd rather not have one at all._

 _But that's no fun,_ I reply.

 _Deal with it,_ he sends me, and I shake my head fondly. My phone pings before I can come up with come witty reply to that. _Was there something you needed?_

 _Just to talk to you,_ I send. Then I blink and bite my lip, distantly worried if I could offend him by typing things like that, since he can't hear, and thus, can't talk.

My phone goes off before I can worry about it too much. _How about we meet in person?_

I smile stupidly at my phone and send my reply. _I know a café on Thomas. Meet me there? It's called "Rose's" after the owner's late daughter._

I stand and start to gather my things, stuffing my wallet into my back pocket and swinging my key ring around my finger. I'm reaching for the door when my phone goes off again. _Sounds perfect. Be there in ten._

…

The woman behind the counter's name is Marlene, and she's an old friend of mine from school. James met Lily through her sometime about a year and a half ago, and Marline and I have had a betting pool going for how long it takes for James to blow it. Given recent events, however, I'm starting to think that Lily is some kind of mystical saint for putting up with all of James' bullshit. God knows the rest of us are.

"Hey, Siri," she greets loudly, when I walk through the door. She turns on the espresso machine and turns back to the customer at the register, ringing up his order.

"Hey," I call back, walking to the corner and taking a seat. Marlene starts up my usual order without another word in my direction, and I turn to look out the window. Many people pass this place by, but few actually walk in here. It's a shame, really, because they have some damn good muffins here.

A cab pulls up to the corner and the back door opens to reveal Remus, who leans back into the cab for a moment, presumably to pay, before he straightens and shuts the door. He looks around and catches my eye in the window. He jumps and a bright red color spreads across his cheeks when I wave. The sight makes me smile, and he ducks his head and walks into the café.

Marlene and Remus reach the table at the same time, and she raises her eyebrows in question when the blond pianist slides into the seat across from me. "Who's this?" she asks, directing the question to Remus, who doesn't look at her. She frowns as she places my tea and my muffin in front of me.

"This is Remus, my date," I introduce, and when I wave my hand, Remus jumps and swings around to look at Marlene. "He's deaf, which is why he didn't respond," I say, as Remus gives Marlene a flustered little smile.

Marlene smiles at Remus in return and hands him her notepad and pen, then turns to me while he starts writing his order in precise, small letters. "Deaf?" she repeats. "You sure that's a good idea?"

I roll my eyes. "He and I text," I tell her. Her eyebrows go up.

"Yeah, bad idea," she says. "I'll give you ice cream when you guys break up," she calls, after Remus hands her the notepad and pen and she starts walking away.

"Fuck you!" I call after her, and while I get several glares from the other customers, I ignore them to look at Remus instead. I look at my phone and type. _I was just introducing you to Marlene, the waitress. She and I have been friends since high school, and she told me it was a bad idea to talk to you, so I told her to fuck off._

Remus lets out short laugh, the first sound I've heard him make, and types out his reply. _Thanks, I guess._ Then, _Do you have many other friends?_

 _There's James,_ I send, _and his girl Lily, and all of her girlfriends that came with her. I was wondering how long it would be before she dumped his sorry ass, but they've been steady for a while, so now I'm waiting on the ring. You?_

 _Sounds wonderful. Because of my disability, I only talk to my employer and my family, usually. Most people don't want to put in the effort._

I start typing out a reply, scrambling inwardly to think of something decent, but Marlene interrupts me by setting a steaming cup of tea in front of Remus. He looks up at her and smiles, giving the universally recognized sign for "thank you". She nods kindly then sends a death glare my way, to which I hold my hands up next to my head.

I look at Remus, who is staring at me, and I roll my eyes pointedly in her direction. He snickers. _Women,_ I type, then hit send. He snickers again. _You speak sign language?_

He nods and starts signing rabidly, but I stare at his hands and then start shaking my head. He stops and holds up his phone. I gesture helplessly and nod, to which he just smiles gently. _I get it._

 _Sorry. I'll learn, if you like._ I send.

 _You don't have to. We can communicate this way._

 _It would be easier._

 _Probably. Just don't go out of your way._

 _You're worth it, I can tell._

I hit send and watch the blush spread across his cheeks. I grin.

…

 _August 29_ _th_ _, 2010_

A month later and I'm sitting on James' couch next to him, my phone in my lap with Lily cooking in the other room. He called me over here, saying that it's important. I have a feeling I already know.

James has been mysteriously silent ever since I got here, just sitting numbly on the couch while the television plays prime time shows. He's not really watching, I can tell. I can also sense the tension between him and Lily, making me wonder if I was wrong in my original assumption.

The show comes to a close and James stands abruptly, forcefully dragging me out to the porch by my arm. "Ouch, okay, mate. A simple 'follow me' would've worked," I complain, shivering in the wind. James looks unruffled.

He leans on the railing and stares into the yard, a vacant look in his eyes. Now I'm worried. For all that I poke fun at him and insult him, he's still my best friend, and he never acts this way. I stand next to him and resist the urge to smoke since James quit for Lily. I nudge him with my elbow. "What's bugging you, James?"

At this, he sighs. "Lily's pregnant," he says. I blink.

"Well, good on you then, mate," I tell him, but somehow sensing that this isn't actually a good thing.

He shakes his head. "I don't want kids, Sirius," he reminds, like I don't know that. "We've been fighting over it. She refuses to give it up."

I shrug. "Women don't usually want to," I say. "So pop the question and deal with it."

"You're oozing sympathy, Siri," he says dryly.

I snicker. "Coming to me for advice is never a good thing unless you want a good bar or gay sex position," I claim, to which he groans and bangs his head on the railing.

"I don't ever want that, Black," he groans, and I start laughing in earnest at the use of my last name.

The door opens behind us and Lily pokes her head out, eyeing us suspiciously. "Dinner," is all she says though, before she ducks back inside.

James turns to me with a sick look on his face, and I bite my lip. I rest a hand on his shoulder. "I think you'll find that having a kid won't be so bad, mate," I say.

He shakes his head. "You don't even like kids, and you're gay, so will never have this problem," he protests. "What do you know?"

I snort and push him. "My sexuality has nothing to do with the fact that I will love your kid until my dying breath, and I'm sure you will too."

I start to walk away, but James stops me. "Thanks, Sirius," he says quietly.

Shrugging, I reply, "It's not a problem, but don't get all emotional on me. I've had my fair share of your girly angsting today," I inform him. He rolls his eyes.

"Now you get to help me plan the proposal," he says as we walk into the house.

"What proposal?" Lily calls, appearing from thin air at the other end of the living room.

"Nothing," James and I chorus. She doesn't look like she believes us, but I wouldn't either. James and I are expert bullshitters, after all.

…

 _September 2_ _nd_ _, 2010_

It's decently warm for an evening mid-September, but I feel like it should be colder for some reason. I glance over at Remus, who looks really relaxed, watching families walk through the park without glancing at his phone. I look out at the park as well, but it doesn't really touch me the same way it appears to touch Remus. Families never do.

I pick up my phone and send him a text. _Tell me about your family?_

He jumps when it vibrates on his lap, and he doesn't look at me when he picks it up. Instead he reads the message then starts typing.

 _My mother's name is Hope, and my father's is Lyall. I have a younger brother named Neil. He's nineteen. What about you?_

 _Just me. I was disowned when I was sixteen. Before that I had a younger brother, Regulus, and countless cousins and aunts and uncles. Even James and I are like third cousins or something. I'm kind of related to everyone._

He frowns, and then blinks. I can see the realization wash over his face just as he starts texting again. _I thought the name "Sirius Black" sounded familiar, but I didn't think you were a noble. And James- James Potter, right?_

 _Yes. I'm not technically a noble anymore though. Just your average, broke, college dropout trying to make it somewhere._

He reaches over and takes my hand. I blink and look up from my phone, but he's not looking at me. So I entwine our fingers and lean over, using my other hand to turn his face. He's a brilliant shade of red, but I don't hesitate. I lean forward and press my lips against his, slowly, to give him time to pull away. He doesn't. Instead, he returns the kiss, hesitantly, and some part of me wonders if he's ever done this before.

I pull back. He looks dazed, and I feel my lips twitch upward. The sun sinks behind a building and it's then that I realize it's gotten quiet. I look around, heart rate picking up irrationally, but it appears like the families have just left, and aren't staring at us in disgust. I breathe an inward sigh of relief.

 _Somewhere?_ My phone pings.

I send my reply. _Wherever the wind takes me. The wind, usually being James, led me to a lot of good things in my life._

 _Where's it going now?_

 _I work in an antique videotape shop, live in a two-room apartment on the poorest edge of London, and have, like, three friends. "James" is amazingly unreliable. The only time he's come through was when he made me go to this ridiculous play with, posh people I no longer associate with, and then left me behind to run into the pianist._

If it were even possible, he blushes even brighter, the pink dusts over the tips of his ears and down his neck, responding with, _You didn't answer my question._

I smirk. _Right now, I think I'm going with the pianist._

 _I think so, too._

…

 _September 6_ _th_ _, 2010_

"So how do I do this?"

I picked up my phone when it started ringing and that's the first thing I heard. I sigh into the receiver, knowing it annoys the hell out of James, and Remus raises his eyebrows at me. I smile apologetically and pick up a pen and a napkin, scrawling James' name onto the paper. Remus nods.

"Look, mate," I say to James, and he sighs dramatically on the other end. "I'm on a date with Remus, and I really don't think~"

"Great! Where are you?"

"James!" I say loudly. "You're not coming on my _date_!"

He makes a dismissive noise. "It's not like you can talk anyway, and it's about time I've met this bloke, so where are you?"

I groan. "You're a right arse, Potter," I inform him flatly. "I'm at that Italian place near that one river on the east side, you know that one? Yeah. That's where we are," I say, then hang up the phone before he can respond.

I half-expect him to call me right back, but he doesn't. I stare at my phone for several seconds before I look up and smile at Remus, who looks terribly amused. He's not bad at lip-reading, apparently, so he probably got the gist of what I said to James.

 _All good?_ He texts me.

 _James is being stupid. He's worked up over something. I wouldn't worry about it. Knowing him, he's misplaced his left shoe or his shitty glasses._

Remus snickers. _This has happened before, I take it?_

I roll my eyes. _God, all the time. He's an idiot. Don't know why I hang out with him._

There's a knocking on the window. I look over and after a second, Remus does too, but I don't really notice because I'm staring at James. The shithead actually found us. I give my best _what the fuck_ glare, but he just grins and turns to walk into the restaurant. I stare after him, quietly impressed, but mostly pissed off. James pointedly ignores that as he drags up a chair from another table and makes himself at home at the end of ours.

"Mate, what the fuck?" I demand.

He shrugs and reaches for my menu. "This is dire, Sirius," he says absently.

"Oh, yes, so dire that you can take the time to order from my menu," I say sarcastically, whacking him in the back of his head. "Beat it."

He takes the hit like he's taken the other fifty thousand I've lopped him with over the years, turning a page of the menu while he ignores the second part of my words. "I'm not ordering, dumbass. I'm looking."

I look over at Remus, exasperated, only to find that he is snickering quietly in his seat, looking like he's more amused than he's ever been in his entire life. I kick him under the table and he jumps, then just starts laughing harder at the look on my face. I'm surrounded by traitors.

James looks up when Remus starts laughing, then grabs a napkin and the pen, writing swiftly on the paper with his chicken scrawl. I'm James, it reads. You must be Remus. Please excuse me. I'm trying to get my asshole best friend to help me, and have had to resort to drastic measures.

I sigh. "What do you want, James?"

He turns to me before Remus can respond. Thankfully, Remus doesn't seem perturbed by this turn of events. "My proposal to Lily, of course!"

 _He wants help with his proposal,_ I type to Remus, even as I say, "Just do it at home. I'm sure she'd appreciate it."

 _What's her favorite place?_ Remus sends me, and when I relay the question to James, his face screws up in thought.

"She likes bridges," James says thoughtfully. Remus read his lips and is responding before I can tell him.

 _Go to a bridge, then. At night, without many people. Be sure to buy a diamond ring._

James is thrilled. He looks at Remus and then steals my phone, typing and sending a message before I can yell at him for it. "Talk to you later, Sirius," he says, getting up and bolting. He trips over the chair in his haste and goes crashing to the floor. I burst out laughing and Remus looks like a mixture between concerned and amused.

As soon as he's gone, I let out a loud sigh and slam my head on the table. I feel Remus' fingers in my hair, combing through it gently, and I look up at him. He grins at me then sends me a text.

I see James' message- You're awesome, Lupin\- before I see Remus'.

 _He seems nice,_ Remus wrote. _And you seem tired._

 _James has an uncanny ability of wearing me out, and it takes a lot to do that. And he's usually that- ahem, "nice". The word I would use is "obnoxious", but you're much kinder than I am, so._

Remus sends me a fond smile.

…

I sign up for a sign language class. Remus doesn't know about it.

James tells me it's a waste of money, because even though he's met Remus, he still thinks I'm going to screw it all up. I'm not as insulted as I probably should be, mostly because I thought the same of him with Lily, and because James pays for the class.


	3. shock

_This chapter deals with sensitive subject matter- miscarriage._

 _Again for the wolfstar comp. on the HPFC forum._

 _Prompts: Mafia!AU (condition), Amateur (word), ritual (word)_

 _Bonus Prompts: "Grab it, before she takes it!" (dialogue), Regenerate (word), Claim (word), Twist (action), Skim (word)_

 _Beta: rhead-a-holyc_

* * *

 _September 10_ _th_ _, 2010_

Because I am a colossal dumbass, when I glance over at the calendar and spot the little section of October in the corner of the grid that sections off the days of September, I let out a shout and sit up quickly, saying loudly, "I can't believe I forgot to tell you!" before I realize that _Remus can't actually hear me._ And, because he is on the other side of my tiny-and-for-once-clean apartment reading, he didn't see me move either. Taking advantage of this, I groan aloud and slam my head on my table, ignoring the ominous creaking, and tell myself, "I am such an idiot."

A cool hand rests on my shoulder, lightly, and I jump, my head shooting upward to face Remus, who stares at me in concerned surprise. My phone pings, and I shoot him a look before picking it up. _I saw you slam your head on the table. Is everything okay?_

I can't help it- I start laughing. It figures that he would see what I don't want him to see. _Fine._ I text, sobering. _Let's forget that._

He frowns. _That seems unreasonable. But for you, I will._

I stand up and leave my phone on the table to kiss him. He stands on his tiptoes to reach better, his arm hooking around my neck in a loose hold while he grips his phone in the other. My hands cradle his head and I run my thumbs over the soft skin of his cheeks. This has become routine now- kissing in the middle of our conversations and any other time we feel like it, just because. It makes me giddy since I haven't had a proper boyfriend since college, and he turned out to be a real douche.

Pulling back, I reach for my phone as Remus' eyes flutter open, lust clouding his pupils. He allows it- he's amazingly unashamed of sex and his sexuality and told me the other day that he couldn't wait to see me naked on a bed, much to James' amusement and my embarrassed shock, while he watches me type out a message. His phone vibrates and he lifts it to his face, blinking slowly to read it while his arm remains around my neck. _That being said, I do have something to tell you._

Typing with just his thumb, it takes him a moment, but I think that's pretty okay. _Oh, really? What is it?_

Its times like these that I wish- selfishly- that Remus could hear me. It's a real pain in the ass to type out long paragraphs of information, but I have to make do. _On Halloween, James and I always make a big deal out of our costumes. It's become a ritual of sorts, and, since she came into the picture, Lily's made sure there's a big party involved as well. This year, James and I have decided to do a Mafia theme, so I wanted to give you enough warning so you can prepare a costume of some sort. You wanna?_

Remus considers this for a moment. Then, he untangles himself from me and starts typing faster with both hands- no doubt, it'll be a longer message. My phone goes off seconds later in my hand, and, when I see the message, I see that I was correct.

 _That sounds fun. I usually hand out candy with my brother, who loves Halloween as well, but this should be okay. Do you mind if I invite him? He'd be really disappointed if I told him I'd be going to a party without him. He's the "cool, popular" one of the two of us, you know?_

I laugh. _That was me until I was disowned._ I send. Then, _He's welcome. Just tell him it's a Mafia theme and that's non-negotiable._

He quirks a smile and nods, sliding his phone onto my table to press himself against me again. His arm goes around my neck once more, and this time, his other arm joins it as he leans up to kiss me. I'm not complaining.

…

 _September 25_ _th_ _, 2010_

The clock moves unbearably slowly when I'm at work.

I swear it does it just to spite me.

No one even comes in here, why does my boss demand that I work so many agonizingly long hours? I lean heavily on my hand and sigh deliberately loudly, attracting my boss' attention from the back room. She peers out and gives me a dirty look before disappearing again. She never did like me too much, but I'm a good worker, so she really has no reason to fire me.

My phone pings and I glance at the back door, eyes wide. It doesn't look like she heard the phone; otherwise she would've come out here, guns blazing, just to scream at me. She and the clock are ganged up against me; I just know it.

 _You said you were a college dropout._ Remus texted. I blink, eyebrows furrowing. It seems like a random thing to mention, so I tell him so. A few moments go by and then I get: _I was just thinking out it. You're awfully smart, from what I can tell, so what happened to make you drop out?_

Damn it. Remus is more perceptive than I'd thought. I hesitate, then send: _Just a stupid mistake. I don't want to talk about it._

For several minutes, Remus doesn't send a response. I glance at the clock and let out a sigh of relief. Pulling my coat from the chair behind the register and sliding my nametag off my shirt, I clock out and bolt.

 _You'll tell me someday._ Is Remus' next text. I bite my lip but don't reply, instead calling a cab to the side of the road. I duck into the cab and pull the door shut, rattling off the address for my sign language class' building.

"You look worried, mate," the cabbie says suddenly, so I look at him. His eyes are on the road, but they flicker to his rearview mirror to look at me after a second.

I shrug, seeing no harm in talking to him. After all, it's not like I'll ever see him again, and, if he's the type to talk to his customers, then he's probably heard a thousand stories like mine and won't even blink. "My boyfriend brought up something unpleasant while I was texting him at work," I say.

"Sounds rough," he says. I'm not sure if he's sincere or not.

"We've only been dating for two months or so," I tell him, "so it's not as if he knew it was unpleasant for me."

"Do you mind telling me? It might help," he suggests.

I don't say anything for several minutes. Then I shrug and look out the window. "He asked me why I dropped out of college."

"Did you fail too many classes or something?" he questions.

"Nothing near. I was caught having an affair with a teacher - who was married, mind - while I had gotten the man into alcohol and weed," I confess, and the man looks shocked in the mirror's reflection.

"Jesus," the man breathes. "So you were driven out? Peers, I suppose?"

"Nailed it," I mutter. "I had enough of getting my essays stolen, and as a result, failing classes." I shake my head at the memory of it. I can still remember what they used to say to me. _Whore_ , was amongst the kindest of the slurs thrown my way after that nasty business came to light. It wasn't even students. The teachers were the ones to give me failing grades instead of helping me out.

The man turns the corner and pulls up to the building. "And yet," he says as I hand him money and gather my coat, "you can afford a class like this."

"Naw," I say, "My friend James pays for it."

Then I shut the door. He drives off, and I release a shaky breath. The teacher hadn't even been good in bed, I reflect, pulling cigarettes from my pocket and lighting one up. In a way, I'm glad Remus knocked me off balance like that. It drove me to talk about one of the most shameful moments of my life. I feel lighter already, I think, stubbing out the cigarette and walking up to the door.

It could be worse.

…

 _September 26_ _th_ _, 2010_

It's one in the morning, and I blink awake when my phone buzzes loudly on the floor next to me. Yawning, I blindly fumble around for it, my eyes not yet adjusted to the moonlight shining through the window above me. I locate my phone, without bothering to find out who it is before, I answer and press the phone to my ear, muttering, "'Lo?"

"Sirius."

James has only called me in the middle of the night twice before, since he knows how little I sleep in the first place. The first time was in high school, before I got disowned, and he'd called because I had asked him to if I hadn't by midnight. I had made a good call on that one, since my mother had answered my phone, tired of hearing it ring without me picking up. My father had beaten me to the point where I had been unable to move, much less answer my cellphone. I'd be dead if James hadn't done that.

The second time was when his parents died. We were both in university by then, and he'd been so out of sorts by the doctor's upsetting news that I had to go get him from the hospital and bring him back to my dorm. We cried all night, and, while my roommate had been upset, he'd also graciously understood and hadn't given either of us much shit about it.

Because both times had meant bad news, I jerk awake immediately at the sound of his voice. Something in my gut twists painfully but I push it away, knowing that, whatever it is, he needs me now. "James? What is it, mate?"

He sounds panicked. "Sirius. Sirius, Lily lost the baby."

"Fuck," I swear, scrambling to get up. It takes me a moment to locate a shirt, but I find one just beside my couch and throw it on, figuring that my sweatpants will be good enough and that trying to get jeans on would be too much of a hassle. "What hospital are you at?" I ask, holding the phone with my shoulder while I collect my wallet and my keys. "I'll zip right over."

"The one nearest to my house. Bloody bludgering hell. Sirius, I dunno the name of it. Fuck. Fuck," he says, sounding close to tears. His voice is breaking.

I open the door and lock it behind me, jogging down the stairs, heading into the parking lot where my car is parked. I hit the button on my key to unlock it and hop in, starting up the car. "I know the one you're talking about," I tell James, hoping to keep him from panicking. "How is she? How is Lily?"

"Blood," James says. "Fucking fuck, there was so much blood, Sirius… all over the sheets. S-she woke up s-screaming."

James stuttering is never a good thing. I make a sharp turn and press on the gas, hoping to make it to the hospital before James goes into shock. "Okay," I say, peering around the steering wheel to locate the hospital. "It's alright now, mate. You took care of her; you got her the help she needed. She'll be fine, you hear? You will not lose her," I soothe, narrowing my eyes: the signs on the side of the road need to be illuminated, I swear to fucking god.

I hear him take a deep, shuddering breath and let out a sob on the exhale. I bite my lip, and flick on the blinker, pausing for only a second to make a right turn into the hospital parking lot. I park in the first parking spot I find that's closest to the nearest door and book it, locking the car with my key and running to the door. "What ward are you in?"

"M-maternity," he says.

"Okay," I agree, rushing up to the counter, the woman behind it looking startled to see me rushing around. "Where's the maternity ward?" I ask, my hand tapping anxiously on the counter.

She, of course, takes it the wrong way entirely, and gives me a smile. "Third floor, west wing," she says kindly. I roll my eyes and take off, moving up the stairs on the left because, I swear, some part of me is convinced that if something could go wrong tonight, it most certainly will because that's just my luck. I'd get stuck in the bloody elevator or would have to stop at every room before I get to the third floor.

"Why are you breathing so hard?" James questions, and, even though it's entirely irrelevant, I answer anyway. He needs to stop thinking about his situation, and I get it. He's always been the type to avoid things than face them outright.

"Running to you guys," I pant, eyeing the sign on the side of the stairs. Third floor. Finally, I think, flinging the door open and rushing the right, where the directory is telling me go to.

"You must really be enjoying that," James comments, and he sounds distant. I turn into the ward and I meet his gaze across the room, and hang up the phone as I move towards him. He must've heard me running. Something tugs in my mind, something important, but I can't place it.

"Certainly," I greet anyway, collapsing into the chair next to him.

We're quiet for a moment and the door opens in the back, revealing a nurse with a clipboard in her hand. "Kingston?" she calls, and a blond man on the other side of the room bolts into the back.

"I proposed to her yesterday, told her we'd keep the kid," James speaks up suddenly. I look sideways at him, sizing him up. He looks exhausted, and I can see the flecks of blood on the hem of his shirt. He'll probably burn it as soon as he realizes. He's tapping his foot on the floor quickly, and I note that he's not wearing any shoes, which is amazing for James-the-clean-freak.

I hum. "How'd that go?" I ask.

"She said yes," he mutters, looking anywhere but at me. "So I suppose it figures that as soon as I agree to the kid, she loses it."

"Oi," I say quickly, scrambling to sit up. "Don't go blaming yourself, James," I say sternly, moving to kneel in front of him. I place my hands on his shoulders and shake him once. "This was not your fault, you hear? Lily did not lose the baby because you decided to keep it," I tell him. The words sound ridiculous coming from my mouth, mostly because the train of thought is ludicrous, but I know that people don't think logically when they are feeling intense emotion, so I won't hold it against him.

I had never thought, not once, that I would ever have to comfort James through his fiancé's miscarriage. It's just as horrible as it had been when his parents died.

He takes a deep breath, and people give us strange looks, obviously having heard my words. James starts shaking his head. He closes his eyes, raising a shaking hand to his mouth. "They wouldn't l-let me in there b-because I'm n-not her husband," he whispers, just loud enough that I can hear him.

Then something falls into place with a rush of horrifying clarity: James should not be here, in the waiting room, while Lily is in a room back there. His shoulders start shaking so I pull him close, just like I did back then, and he cries without tears onto my shoulder.

He regains control fairly quickly, and not too soon, because the door swings open again and the nurse calls, "Evans." James and I stand quickly, and the nurse looks between us and then at the clipboard. "Just the fiancé," he says, and so James turns to me.

"Thanks for coming. You can go, if you like," he says.

"You sure?" I question. He nods then follows the nurse. "Tell Lily I hope she feels better," I call after them, and James glances at me over his shoulder and gives me a strained smile. The door closes behind them and it feels disturbingly like a death sentence, the click sounding harsh to my ears like funeral bells.

…

 _October 1_ _st_ _, 2010_

 _Okay, I know something is wrong. Tell me._

My phone buzzes and I read the message before I look up at Remus. He's staring at me from my couch, looking so damn earnest and concerned that I can't help but let out a sob. Earnest turns to alarm, and he rushes over to sit next to me on my mattress, wrapping his arms around me.

I haven't heard from James since Sunday, except for a text on Monday that said that Lily was released and that they were both grateful for my help, but to let them be for a while. While I understand, I would still like to be there, to help more however I can because, despite it all, Lily is my friend now, too, and I would like to see her.

Despite the single tear that slides down my face, I don't let out another sob, nor are my hands shaking when I text, _Lily lost the baby at the beginning of the week._

Remus presses a kiss into my hair and doesn't reply to my text, instead just sitting with me until the sun sets.

It's the first time he spends the night, unfortunately, he only sleeps next to me, and both of us are fully clothed.

…

 _October 8_ _th_ _, 2010_

 _There's a carnival in town next month._

I frown. _I didn't think you would be into carnivals._

I glance over at him, and he shrugs. He looks at his phone and types out a message. _It would be different. Besides, I'm addicted to Ferris wheels._

I laugh. _How much are the tickets?_

 _I'll pay for the overpriced tickets if you buy me an overpriced American hot dog._

 _Deal_ , I text back, and he grins. He knows how broke I am, and I appreciate that he tries to keep as many pounds in my pocket as possible without making it seem like I can't take care of myself. It doesn't really work, but the thought counts, I suppose.

I look up and quickly look back down again, texting, _It's starting_ , before I wrap my arm around Remus' shoulders and relax into my seat.

We're at a movie. One would think that a deaf person wouldn't have any interest in such a thing, but, I suppose, a deaf person also wouldn't care for becoming a pianist. Remus defies all of my expectations. That doesn't change the fact that the entire movie is in French with English subtitles, which is why Remus had to see it. It's the only way he can go to the movies, he'd told me, so I relented.

It's really terrible. I don't understand a word of it so I zone out ten minutes in, catching brief sentences here and there when I can be bothered to skim read them. Remus, on the other hand, is riveted. The entire time, his eyes never leave the screen, and he even brushes me off when I try to kiss him. Half way through, I start counting the people in the theatre, just for something to do, and then I start trying to pick up patterns in the language since there aren't that many people.

I don't know why they call it a love language. I could be listening to German - and I know how rough that is to listen to, since my father spoke it frequently on the phone - and it sounds pretty much the same to me. Well, not entirely: French is kinder on the ears, but still. I wouldn't go so far as to say a 'love language'.

The credits start to roll and I slam my head on the back of the seat in relief. Remus slaps me on the arm to reprimand me, and I grin at him, which he scowls at. _You could've at least tried to watch ,_ he texts, and, if he were talking, I am sure his voice would sound scolding and petulant.

 _I don't do well with subtitles,_ I respond, wrapping my arm around his shoulders again and leading him out.

He huffs. _Amateur_ , he sends me. I bend down and kiss him.

…

 _October 31_ _st_ _, 2010_

I pull up to James' house and park in the driveway, three full hours before the Halloween party is due to start. My suit is hot in the sun - it would only figure that it would be hot the one day everyone wishes for cooler weather in London - so I move quickly to get to the door and to the air conditioning.

I move to knock but James, dressed in a crisp, clean black suit with suspenders over it, swings the door open and ushers me inside before I'm able. "Don't mention anything about the you-know-what," James breathes into my ear, hanging my jacket on the hook next to the door, while his eyes settle wearily on Lily in the kitchen.

"Got it," I whisper back. James nods and pulls away, heading into the kitchen to assist his fiancé. When he runs a hand along her shoulder blades, she looks up and smiles at me.

"Welcome back, Sirius," she says, and the forced cheer is very obvious in her voice. It's also noticeable in the darkness under her eyes - make-up can't hide everything - and in the new lines on her forehead. She's much paler than she should be, looking very much like a ghost, which is only highlighted by the black Mafia-style suit she's wearing. Her brilliant red hair has faded to an almost brown color, and it looks unevenly cut for the first time since I met her, nearly two years ago. While she and I aren't best-buddies-for-life or anything, my heart still goes out to her. She didn't deserve this.

I smile. "Good to be back," I say. Then I point towards the living room on the right and continue, "I'll be making myself useless on the couch."

She rolls her eyes, suddenly looking a whole lot like the Lily Evans I remember. "Of course you will," she mutters. "Get out of my sight then," she finishes, louder, jerking her egg-covered fork in the direction I'm pointing in. I grin mischievously and dart into the room, immediately falling onto the too-comfortable-for-words couch that James is fortunate enough to buy. It's almost unfair, sometimes, how bloody rich he is.

As I stare at the ceiling, the thought rises unbidden to the forefront of my mind. _The kid would've been so happy here._ I close my eyes against the crack-less ceiling and shake my head slightly. I wonder how I'm supposed to be here with the two of them for three hours like this.

"Dammit, James Potter! Don't touch the cookies- they're not going to regenerate or multiply once they're gone, and they're for the guests, not you!" I hear her shouting from the kitchen, much to my amusement.

"So you claim," James counters, and then I hear him shout in pain. "Shit, Lily. That hurt!"

"Serves you right," she says, then, "Now, seriously, give me those, and _don't you dare try to take another one, James!_ "

I stand up and head into the kitchen, where the couple is standing on either side of the island. Lily looking amazingly fierce in her Mafia get-up despite the cloud of depression surrounding her. James has two cookies in one hand while another is between his teeth, the sight of which makes me grin. He used to do the same thing to his mother; it drove the poor woman round the bend.

Lily feigns running to the left and rushes to the right, which makes her run right into him. They wrestle for the cookies in James' hand, and one falls on the floor and rolls away. "Grab it before she takes it, James!" I shout at him when they both dive for it.

The cookies - all three of them - end up with James to no one's surprise. He'd been quite the football player in high school, and can move quickly when he needs to. He stands up victoriously and Lily huffs from her position on the floor before she stands. "The two of you, I swear…" she says.

"I know, love, we're a nightmare," James finishes, kissing her hair. She elbows him and he snickers, joining me. We both move into the living room and I drop onto the couch again, and, not for the first time, mourning the incredible bank account my parents had set up for me when I was young, before I was disowned. Being broke is so exhausting.

James drops next to me with a loaded sigh. Sitting on this comfortable couch, part of me honestly doesn't want to start dealing with anything "loaded". The other part of me is very curious about how they've been holding up, particularly Lily. If she's going to be okay hosting a large-scale Halloween party tonight. "Spit it out," I sigh, leaning back, and out of the corner of my eye I see James give me a dirty look, but he obliges nonetheless.

"She wants to try again," he informs me. I shoot him a wide-eyed glance, and he nods. "I know, right?" he agrees, then drops his face into his hands. "I think she's crazy."

"Is this because it's too soon or because you're secretly glad she lost the baby?" I inquire, keeping my voice low so that Lily has no chance of hearing me. I'm not out to ruin their relationship, after all.

For several long seconds, James is quiet. Then he makes a loud sound - something between a sigh and a groan - before he throws himself onto the throw pillows behind him. "I hate that you know me so well sometimes," he mutters, his tone biting. Then he looks over at me, an unreadable look on his face. I stare back, measured and nonjudgmental, knowing that's what he needs right now. "Bit of both, really," he admits.

I had expected it to fully be the latter, but I'm glad that it's not. Lily would probably actually leave him, and I don't want to clean up _that_ mess. "Do you think you deal with having a kid so soon? It appears she can," I point out, playing the devil's advocate. It's a role I play for lots of people, oddly enough. People just _talk_ to me. I reflect on it inwardly for a moment, wondering why, then James speaks up and draws me out of it.

"But can she?" he asks.

I roll my eyes. "That's not what I asked. If she's asking you try again, then she's ready, despite any evidence to the contrary." And there is a lot of evidence to the contrary, I think, remembering the way Lily had looked before James started stealing cookies. Trying again should be the last thing on her mind, but I'm not going to try to change her mind. It's not my decision.

"Do you think we should? Try again, I mean?"

"If you feel like you can," I reply, purposefully keeping the answer vague. He'll hear what he wants to hear.

He blinks slowly then takes a deep breath and nods decisively. "Thank you," he mutters.

I ignore him. "Do you have porn hidden away somewhere?"

He snorts and shoves me. "You're at a Halloween party, what do you want that for?"

"It should be your way of thanking me," I snicker when he pulls a face at my words.

"You suck," he tells me, standing.

"Quite well, from what I've been told," I call after him, and start laughing when I hear him spluttering in the other room. "You asked for it!" I call, laughing as I put my feet on their coffee table and lean back, flicking the television on. I still have two and half hours to kill.


	4. meet

_Sorry for missing last week's update._

 _For the "Every Wold Deserves A Star, Wolfstar Comp." on the HPFC forum._

 _Prompts: Cliffhanger Ending (condition), Ivory (word), and Glare (action)._

* * *

 _October 31_ _st_ _, 2010_

It's so loud I can hardly hear myself think, but it's like this every year so I can hardly bring myself to care too much.

Nursing a thin glass on champagne in my right hand, I eye the guests around James and Lily's house, watching them mingle and laugh in their mafia uniforms. Near the back of the living room, I can see Frank and Alice Longbottom, leaning on the walls while they talk with Marlene. Marlene is as loud and unforgettable as always- laughing too loudly and wearing bright colors instead of the crisp black or white from all the other guests. One drop of anything even remotely alcoholic and that's the end of her, I swear.

She is always a nightmare at parties.

I turn my gaze to Emmeline Vance, the subdued member of Lily's squad. She looks highly uncomfortable in her thigh-length black dress and gun holsters hooked onto her thighs. I think she looks fine, but if I were to bring that up to her, she'd deny it in a heartbeat. I sigh and take a sip of my drink, moving on from Miss Self-conscious.

I spot a few people from James' undergrad class, some of whom I had had classes with myself, but chose to disassociate with after the incident. They fit naturally into the atmosphere, like they belong here.

The clock keeps ticking and I keep my eyes open, but there is no sign of Remus or his brother. It's been an hour since the party started and I've not gotten a text or anything to let me know where he is.

James catches my eye from across the room and I hold up my glass in a silent toast, allowing a thin smirk to settle on my lips as I lower my eyelids. James doesn't look reassured, but he smiles back anyway and returns his focus to one of his neighbors who had stopped by to say hello and got caught in the feel of the room and the people. The guy's drunk off his ass, and it's clearly making James uncomfortable, so at least that's entertaining. God knows nothing else is right now.

I sigh and roll my eyes, looking absently out the window. I wish Remus had texted me that he couldn't make it. That would have been polite.

"You look really depressed, Sirius," someone says. I jump inwardly and swing my gaze to my left, where Alice is taking a seat next to me. She has a full glass of wine in her hand and with her empty hand; she pulls down the skirt of her red leather dress and crosses her right leg over her left. Her brown eyes then pin me in place, demanding an answer for her implied question.

I sigh and glance around the room again, not really _seeing_ it. Lights are dimmed and multi-colored, and streamers fall from the ceiling in a festive fashion. It passes me by in my annoyed upset, which only serves to upset me further because I really enjoy these parties Lily puts on.

I look again at Alice, who stares right back in patient demand. I sigh again. "My boyfriend promised he'd be here and has yet to appear," I say reluctantly, unused to confiding in the little woman beside me.

She swirls her wine in the glass before she tips it back and drains it. I stare at her in amazement. I've never seen anyone besides James and myself drink that fast before. She then leans forward and puts the glass on the ivory coffee table in front of us and leans back into the throw pillows. "Sirius Black," she says lazily, and I raise my eyebrows, "I've never known you to mope around because of a missing boy toy."

"He's not a boy toy," I protest immediately, but she holds up her hand and cuts me off.

"He is if he hasn't bothered to show up tonight," she declares. She glances at me from the corner of her eyes and I see a spark of laughter in the brown orbs. "Go on and enjoy the party, Black, before I nail you where it hurts and give you a reason to mope!"

I jump and she laughs, pushing me into her husband, who spills wine on my shirt and apologizes profusely. I wave it off and move to join James in the kitchen, no longer entertaining his inebriated neighbor.

…

 _You could've at least told me you weren't coming tonight._

 _To what?_

I stare incredulously at my phone, unable to believe him. _The Halloween party…_ I type and send. Remus replies immediately afterward.

 _Oh my god, I thought I was forgetting something! I'm so sorry._ He sends, and I roll my eyes and unlock the door to my apartment. I flip on the lights and close my door, pulling off my jacket as I pass my closet. I toss it in there without looking and lean against the door, my feet sliding a bit on the tile.

I'm a little drunker than I should be, tired and unwilling to hear apologies.

It hurts more than I expected it would, to hear that Remus had actually forgot about some party with people he wouldn't know very well. It shouldn't matter much. It shouldn't.

 _I'll talk to you tomorrow._ I send, and toss my phone onto the couch, where it bounces and lands on the floor. I stare at it morosely, before I shake my head and stumble over to my mattress, collapsing onto it with a sigh. My phone pings across the room, but I close my eyes and ignore it, all the while ignoring the strange ache in my chest.

…

 _November 6th, 2010_

However, the next day turned out to be the dreaded Monday, so I scrambled out of bed a half hour late for work and started a downhill trend for the rest of the week.

Three days late for work, I missed a sign language class because of my strange exhaustion, and James has not left me alone about his Lily problem. I told him this morning to just bow to her requests and allow her to the run the damn marriage, because I don't know anything about women and never care to, so just _let me be_ , and I haven't heard from him since, though I have little doubt I'll get a text or a visit tomorrow.

It's Saturday now, and somehow Alice got my number- I would bet my life that Lily stole it from James' phone- and hasn't stopped texting me all week about my "boy toy" and how that relationship is going. I glare at it when it pings with a message from her again, and then I decide to block her number when I can be bothered.

For the first time since Halloween, I pick up my phone from my rickety old table and open the text box to Remus. _Is there any way that you know of that I can commit a murder with no chance of the body being found or the murder traced back to me?_ I ask.

 _Cannibalism_ is the response I receive. I burst out laughing and drop myself onto my mattress, grinning to myself. _Why?_ He asks next, and follows up with, _Who are we killing?_ I grin, remembering why I like Remus so much.

 _Lily's friend Alice Longbottom "found" my number somewhere and has not stopped texting me about you. I want to shut her up._

 _Me? What does she know about me?_

 _Nothing, and I think that may be the issue._

I lean back on my couch and fight back a yawn, locating the television remote between the couch cushions and hitting the power button. Some show called _Merlin_ is on right now, and I watch the characters find their way around a possessive goblin in between texting Remus. The time slips by and the show ends followed by some movie I only half-watch, and the sun sets outside my window while I carry on conversation.

I fall asleep on the couch for the first time in a week, completely relaxed, and get a text from Remus- _Sweet dreams, darling._

…

 _November 19th, 2010_

I tangle my fingers loosely with Remus', and he gives me a light smile, leading me down the road to his parents' house.

I'm more nervous than I- and everyone else- think I should be, but I've never had a relationship that lasted long enough to get to the "meeting the parents" stage before.

I feel like I will throw up at any moment.

I'm sure that would be an excellent first impression, indeed.

The house is simple. It's painted white and has a flowerbed in the window, next to a long path of bricks leading up to the front door. Absurdly, the first thing I think of when I see it is Dorothy and the yellow brick road.

Immediately after thinking that, I feel like banging my head against the nearest hard surface because I've only seen that movie one time and didn't even like it very much.

Remus walks up to the front door and presses on the doorbell, which I hear echo through the house to be followed by a series of quick footsteps. The door swings inward to reveal a short blonde woman with an apron over a flower-patterned dress. She smiles widely at the sight of us and pulls Remus into her arms with some speedy sign language I can barely read. "Welcome home, Remus. Your father will be back from work…" I stop trying to read it after that. My head is spinning from trying to put the barely-exercised knowledge to use.

Remus nods and smiles and signs rapidly back, and I stand awkwardly on the doorstep, waiting to be acknowledged.

It takes the woman a few moments to notice. When she does, she jumps a little and fixates her gaze on me so quickly that my heartbeat picks up from surprise. "You must be Sirius," she says, and pulls me into a hug, just like she did with Remus. I hear him snicker behind me and I flip him the bird, which turns his faint chuckles into a full-blown laugh. "Oh, dearest," the woman says, "I've heard a lot about you. I'm Hope, Remus' mother," she introduces, and guides Remus and I into the house, closing the door behind us while she starts asking me an extensive amount of questions.

"Remus said you were once a noble, is that true? How did that end?"

"Can you speak sign language?"

"What part of London do you live in?"

"Excuse me for asking, but are you rich?"

And on and on. If there's one thing I've figured out about Hope Lupin, it's that she sure knows how to talk. I answer all of her questions as best I can, all the while exchanging amused looks with Remus while I text to him what she's asking me.

 _She just asked what kind of toilet paper I buy._

Remus snickers, and Hope spins around, opening her fridge to pull out a packet of shredded cheeses to pour all over the pasta dish she's preparing for dinner.

The front door opens and a man and a teenager whom I assume to be Neil appear in the entryway. "Hello, Lyall, Neil," Hope calls, haphazardly moving around the kitchen to do something I can't discern. When the two men walk into the kitchen, Remus waves, and I give them a smile. Lyall signs a greeting to Remus, as does Neil, while Hope gives introductions. "This is Sirius Black, Remus' much-talked about boyfriend, and Sirius, this is Remus' father Lyall and my other son Neil."

I stand and move to shake hands with the both of them, but Neil bypasses that entirely and pulls me into a hug the same way his mother had. "So sorry about that party," he says quietly, "but the actual holiday came around and tradition caught up with us," he finishes, looking over his shoulder at me while he gives Remus a hug too.

I shrug, sitting down in the chair I had vacated to get out of the way of Lyall, who nods at me and disappears down a hallway. "It's cool," I say, and Neil looks relieved.

"Excellent," he says. "I would hate to be on bad terms with my brother's boyfriend before I even get to know him."

I grin. "Probably wise," I agree.

The evening progresses from there. Hope puts fried spaghetti on the table with some cheese-coated chicken. It's a meal I've never had before, and by the end of the dinner, I decide to ask her for the recipe. I think Lily would appreciate it. Throughout the meal, however, Neil does most of the talking, telling all about his criminal psychology classes at the university and about this girl he's considering asking out. He describes her to me in great detail- brown hair and blue eyes "like the ocean" with lots of freckles and a bunch of other attributes about her personality. I'm laughing inwardly and texting Remus under the table. Remus has heard about this girl every night for the past month and a half, apparently, and so is able to quote most of what Neil tells me in the texts as he says it.

It's the most hilarious case of brother teasing I've ever seen.

Hope stands and starts clearing the table when everyone is finished, snapping at me to "sit down and let me take care of it," when I move to help her. I decide to ask for the recipe at that point.

"Oh, absolutely, dear," she says proudly. "Remus never mentioned that you cook," she adds, rushing from the sink to the- what I assume to be a junk drawer to grab a note card and a pen.

I shrug, finding Remus' hand under the table and linking our fingers together. "I have to know some meals to live off of since I live alone, and I have a friend whose wife cooks for a hobby," I tell her, answering her unspoken question.

"I see," she says. "Then I guess you have to come over more often so that you're not alone most evenings for dinner."

And if that isn't acceptance and approval, I don't know what is.

…

 _November 24_ _th_ _, 2010_

 _Come grocery shopping._

I blink at the message from Remus, leaning back on the stool behind the counter at the antique shop. I glance around and find that the only customer is consumed with a statue in the far back of the store, and my boss is nowhere to be found. I send a quick text in return. _Can't. Working._

 _Well, obviously not right now ,_ Remus texts back, and I fight back a groan. He's apparently gotten it into his head somehow that it's okay to text me while I'm at work ever since I told him how slow we are around here. I glance up at the Slowest Clock In The Universe to see that I have another half hour of hell here.

 _I'll meet you at the park in an hour,_ I text, and then stuff my phone in my back pocket when my boss materializes from thin air in front of me.

Wordlessly, she points to the customer and even though I had spoken with him earlier, I stand and slink over to him. "Sir, I understand that you don't need my help," I say when he opens his mouth, "but my boss will fire me if I don't look at least mildly engrossed with the task of giving you information for things you already know all about."

The man laughs, looking so hopelessly amused that I'm pretty sure I just made this guy's day. "Okay mate, I get it," he says and I nod gratefully.

…

 _Why did you need my help in shopping for apples?_

Remus looks up and smiles. _I didn't. I just figured you needed something to look forward to after work, given how much you complain._

I snort and shake my head, looking down at my phone while listening vaguely to the music playing on the subway. Remus and I had met at the park and he had dragged me off to the supermarket, only buying apples and nothing else. It had been quite a trip.

Now, he's joining me at mine for leftover night, though why he would want to, I have no idea. He texted me that it seems like a good idea.

We walk hand in hand to my apartment, and I mess with the keys for several moments before I locate the correct one in the dim, dirty hallway outside my door. I slide the key into the lock and push open the door, jokingly grabbing Remus' apples and bowing to let him in. He sends me a glance that's half amusement and half fondness, and then moves into my short hall.

I follow him inside and he stops just short of my kitchen. I bump into him and he looks back to stare at me. He points at my table.

I follow the line of his finger with my eyes and feel a sinking feeling in my gut.

Regulus sits with one leg crossed over the other at my table with an unreadable look on his face. He's dressed in proper noble finery, my old heir ring on his right index finger. I bite my lip at the sight of it and feel anger well up inside me.

"Hello, brother dear," he says. "I was beginning to wonder if I had the right apartment."


	5. fear

_November 24_ _th_ _, 2010_

" _What_ are you doing here, you traitorous bastard?" I snarl, pushing past Remus and slamming the apples on the table. Remus slinks past me to sit on my mattress, and Regulus flicks him a disinterested glance before refocusing on me. There's something in eyes- is it shock?

He glances around, his nose upturned and scrunched up, clearly ignoring the question. "I do have to wonder whatever became of you for you to live in a trash heap such as this," he says distastefully.

I snarl, running a hand through my hair and then crashing my hand on the table. "That's not any of your business!" I shriek, and he glares at me. "I asked what you thought you were doing here!"

He twirls his hand in the same way all the rest of the pompous nobles I used to have to deal with do, and the sight of that action makes me want to smack my younger brother hard across his face. "Now, now, brother dear- no need for the hostility. I was ordered by our mother to tell you that Father is in hospital and you are not to come visit."

I blink at him, slowly. Then I explode. " _Why would I want to?_ " I demand in a screech, recalling painfully of the countless beatings and all the times that man pushed me to my knees. He fought me every day to make sure I stayed there, and when it came to be too much, I punched him and broke his nose and his jaw. I ran to James', and haven't seen my freakish family members outside the newspapers ever since.

Regulus sighs. "Sirius, please," he starts, but I cut him off.

"No. No, you made your bed. Now you've got to lie in it. I don't want to hear it. I don't care that your father is in the hospital. Get out." I point at my door, and Regulus' wide gray eyes stare at me in shock.

"He's not just my father," Regulus whispers, sounding so small as he says it. I'm abruptly reminded of a time when he said the same thing to me when we were younger, and my resolve wavers for just a moment, my arm falling minutely. Regulus notices immediately, of course he does, and latches onto it with gusto. "Please, Sirius. Cut them off, I don't care. They did you wrong. But I…" I narrow my eyes, and he flinches, and I'm once again reminded of my terrible childhood.

I know I look a lot like my father does. I'm not the carbon copy like James is to his father, but I can't be side by side with the man and mistaken for anyone else's kid. I know it, and most of the time it doesn't bother me. But as Regulus flinches back, I have to wonder what he sees, looking at me now. If it matters that the background isn't the darkened wallpaper of Grimmauld Place, that I'm not dressed in noble finery. If I look so much like my sire that Regulus- my baby brother, the one who watched from alcoves as I took his punishment, and the one who patched me up after, the boy who saw that I was so unhappy and afraid all the time, and so made sure I was disowned despite the fact that it would mean that he would take the beatings afterwards- if I look so much like our father that it would make him afraid to look at me.

The thought makes me sick.

Regulus bites his lip and rights himself, looking both obnoxiously proud and childishly scared all at once. "But I don't want to lose you again," he mutters.

I narrow my eyes. He looks like my little brother for the briefest of moments, but I fight the impulse to give in and welcome him into my arms and into my life. I don't need the trouble. "Get out," I hiss again, and this time, Regulus lowers his eyes and does as he's told. He slinks by and the door sounds like a gong resounding for an execution.

I collapse tiredly into the chair at the table. I feel drained and guilty, throwing him out. I just can't deal with that. I can't deal with my family again.

Remus' soft fingers press into my shoulder pad, and I lean back into his hold with a weary sigh. He presses his lips to my hair in a soft kiss and then rests his cheek on my head, wrapping his arms around me. I twine our fingers together and close my eyes, feeling a single tear slide down my cheek.

…

 _November 27_ _th_ _, 2010_

 _Today is the carnival._ Remus sends me first thing in the morning. _It ends in two days._

I sit up and peer at my phone blearily, blinking sleep out of my eyes. _I take it that's where we're going today?_ I question, yawning.

I can almost see him nodding vigorously as he jumps from bed and sends me, _Yes please. Meet at nine at the bakery down the road?_

 _Sure. See you there!_ I grin, sleep clinging to my lashes still as I sit up. I run my fingers through my hair and pull the sheets back, shivering. The cold air nips at my skin and I vow that I'll start to keep towels closer to my bed so I can grab one and jump into the shower where it's hot without having to wander to the closet by the door.

I choose my fluffiest towel and my phone pings again. Tucking the towel under my arm and typing in my password, I rub at my eyes and then feel my heart start to burst. Remus sent me a picture of himself, soft eyeliner around his amber eyes and a light pink dusting his cheeks. His hair is adorably mussed and fluffy and I want nothing more than to kiss him all over and run my fingers through his hair. _What did I do to deserve such a gorgeous boyfriend? I love you so much._

I hit send before what I've written really sinks in.

Fuck.

My cheeks burn and my hearts starts beating faster. My mouth is dry and my hands are suddenly warm despite the chilly air. I feel sick.

Remus doesn't answer for several minutes and tears lick the back of my eyes in warning. I've ruined it. Such a good morning...

I throw my phone in the bathroom sink and step in the shower, the water broiling hot. It burns my skin and turns me red all over but I don't really feel it. Shaking hands reach for my shampoo and I drop it. I bite my lip and feel the tears despite my best efforts. They leak down my face slowly, and I turn into the water and scrub my face. I need to snap out of it.

My shower continues in much the same manner for the next ten minutes. Most of it is me standing under the burning water and my shoulders shaking. I take a deep breath once my hair is finally cleaned and step out. My phone pings and I look at it, my heart in my throat.

It's Remus. _I'm almost at the bakery._

So we're ignoring it. I sigh, disappointment and relief fighting inside my head. I can do that. I can ignore my fuck-ups just fine. I'm just lucky he's still willing to see me, I suppose. Better count my blessings where I can get them.

As I dress, my mind stays blissfully blank. My eyes itch from the crying in the shower. I pull on my favorite button down and some dark skinny jeans that Remus loves to see me in to try and win as many points back as possible.

My keys feel too cold in my hands and the wheel of my car too independent of the rest of the car. It's an odd feeling.

It's quiet in the bakery when I get there. There is no one behind the counter and all but one of the tables is empty. Remus is fiddling with something in his lap and so doesn't see me come in. I take a deep breath and walk over to his table, sliding into the seat across from him. He glances up and his entire face lights up like the sun. He stands quickly and moves to straddle me in my seat. Automatically, my hands find his hipbones and rest there as my eyes search his. I've never seen him look so happy.

He hands me a card, and I tighten my grip on his hip while my other hand flicks it open.

 _Sirius: No one's ever told me they love me before- beyond my family, anyway- and I can't believe that you do. I don't think you could ever understand how much I love you, too._

Remus' scratchy pen made little inkblots on some of the letters and the writing is crooked in a way that is so unlike him. I glance up, my heart racing, to find him peering at me cautiously from under his eyelashes. _I love you,_ I sign, and he lets out a little choking noise before burying his face into my shoulder, his arms around my neck. I hold him just as tightly, feeling like I just won the lottery.

This amazing man- the pianist who can't hear, the reader who never has taken an English class, the happy-go-lucky star who, despite it all, who has had the odds stacked against him since he was born, has always maintained this positive outlook on life that I never thought I would ever see in anyone- loves me. Me.

I've won more than just the lottery. I won the world.

His hair smells like the dried glue smell you can find in bookshops filled with old novels. I press a kiss to his neck and hold on tighter.

...

The carnival is even more beautiful than I remember. I haven't been since I was eight, when my great-uncle took Regulus and I in an attempt to make us "more human" than the rest of my deplorable cousins. We rode on every ride and played every game. My mother had been furious when we came home with a myriad of stuffed animals and other trinkets. The resulting screaming match between the adults sent Regulus and I scurrying to the secure location under my bed, where we hid for several hours. Eventually, my great-uncle knocked lightly on my door and told me this:

"You have to promise me that no matter how hard life gets for you here, that you'll remember these three things. First, I love you and you will always have a home with me even if the rest of the world is against you. Secondly, there is always going to be pain in your life. Things are going to hurt. But like every caterpillar, you will soon be able to fly away as a butterfly with big white wings and the sight that comes with seeing things from the air is worth every risk, every near-death experience that you, as a caterpillar, will survive. Three, I am not the only one who loves you. But for now, I've stashed all the toys in my car and am taking them back to my house so that you can be in the neighborhood that will lead you to meeting that one special person."

I'll never forget it. I'll never know what transpired at that house down those stairs that night, but I do know that I never saw my great-uncle again. But, he was right.

It was worth it. It was worth every beating, every broken heart, every mistake, just to see the delight on Remus' face tonight. I tug him close to my side as he and I sit on the top of the Ferris wheel, staring at the rainbow light show below. I can hear the music and the laughter from the couples and families. It resonates through my heart.

Maybe I'm just being sappy and sentimental because Remus made me so happy earlier.

He turns to me, tilting his face up. I smile at him, my eyes softening, and he points to the silhouette of Big Ben on the horizon. I snap a picture of it with my phone, and then Remus laughs, leaning in further next to me. He holds up his phone and I smile for the picture, and just as he clicks the "snap" button, he turns his head and kisses me on the cheek. I laugh, delighted at the resulting photo. He saves it as his lock screen and burrows himself into my arms.

I could die happily right now.

 _I believe you promised me one of those overpriced American hot dogs_ , he texts me, and I nod sagely.

 _Quite right,_ I reply as the wheel circles to the ground again, and we step out. I bow mockingly and hold out my hand for him. He laughs, fully acting his part. His hand slips delicately into mine and he pretends to lift up a skirt as he steps out of the carriage. The couple next to us start cooing, and I shoot them a wink over my shoulder. Remus slides back under my arm and loops his arm around my waist, and we walk away.

I buy my boyfriend one of the overpriced hot dogs and he bites into it happily at one of the picnic tables nearby. I just bought a coke and left it at that, thinking of the two twenties in my wallet left for the rest of the next two weeks from my paycheck two days ago. Leftovers at Lily and James' sound great, I think wistfully, and as Remus smears mustard on his lips accidentally, maybe eating at his house is something I could get away with, too.

He catches me looking at him, and cocks his head to the side inquisitively. I stand and kiss him over the table, licking the mustard away with my tongue. He's blushing when I sit back down.

"Disgusting fags," I hear.

I look away for a brief minute to come face to face with these women with disgust written all over their faces.

"My life is none of your business," I retort, unwilling to deal with this. Not tonight.

"It is if you're going to act so obscenely in public and commit so much sin in front of innocent children," the blonde snaps, and I rear back.

"I kissed him. That was it. It's not like I threw him on the table and threw his legs over my shoulders, did I?"

Repulsed, the brunette hisses, "I should report you to the police."

Remus tugs on my jacket and I look away from the women to see him. He's finished the hot dog and now looks concerned. I huff and turn back to the women. "Go ahead," I say, "It's perfectly legal; you'll have no case."

I pull Remus up from his seat, much to his surprise, and pull him away.

I tug him into an alcove and grit my teeth. He opens his arms and I bury myself into the warm, welcoming embrace willingly. I can feel him moving behind me, and a second goes by before my phone pings, but I shake my head and press my nose into his hair. He sighs, rubbing circles into my shirt.

 _I love you_ , he traces, and I smile sadly.

After a second I pull away, and I try to turn back to the fair, but he grips my face and turns me back. He runs his thumbs over the skin under my eyes, and his amber eyes trace over every inch of my face. I smile, and he smiles shakily back, pressing a closed mouthed kiss to my lips.

I kiss him back and he pulls back first, tugging my phone from my pocket and handing it to me with a raised eyebrow. I take it and open it to read his text. _What happened? Are you alright?_

I shake my head and type back, _I hate prejudiced people. They always stick their noses where they don't belong. They called us all sorts of names. Is it awful that I'm glad you couldn't hear it?_

 _No. That's the only upside to being deaf._

His eyes are sad when I look into them again, and I get the feeling that this isn't the first time he's experienced something hateful. Rage briefly bubbles up in my chest, but I squish it down. There's no need for that on a perfect night like this.

 _Let's go play games. I want you to leave tonight with one of those stupid stuffed animals and we'll laugh about it like all those other dumb, sappy couples._

 _Sounds like a plan, darling._

Within fifteen minutes, Remus has accumulated three small stuffed animals- one cat, a bear that has a tee shirt that reads, "Best Date Ever", and a dog that is colored bright green. He is amazingly good at darts and target games, apparently.

I, of course, am tasked with carrying them as he tried for another. The guy behind the counter is laughing with me over the impossibility of it, as Remus nails another six out of six balloons with the faulty, dull darts designed to make people lose.

I'm answering the guy's questions about Remus and I when my boyfriend tugs on my arm again. The guy's eyes swivel to Remus as mine do, and he asks, "What'll it be, then, kiddo?" but Remus is already pointing to the dog in red. When the guy dislodges it, Remus presents it to me with a flourish, and I smile cheerfully.

I take it and hold onto it tightly, holding onto the smaller boy with my other arm as I say goodnight to the guy. He waves, smiling, before turning to the family at the booth next.

Remus doesn't bother sending a text this time, just holds up his phone in front of my face. _Can we go back to your place?_

I nod, and together we walk out of the carnival's front gate, glued together like puzzle pieces. Remus grabs the cat from me on the way out and holds onto it tightly, like some treasure he has been searching for his whole life, while I hail a cab.


	6. arrow

_November 30_ _th_ _, 2010_

"It's not funny."

"No, it really is," I gasp, staring at my table, which finally collapsed under his fat head. Or rather, his fat ass, since _he sat on my table_ and it broke underneath him. I break down laughing, and then I wave my phone, locked because I'm not stupid, and say, "I'm so glad I caught that on video."

"You didn't!" he breathes, eyes wide, and I nod enthusiastically. My phone pings.

"And Lily is laughing her ass off," I snicker, and he lets out a noise that sounds both resigned and furious, and the resulting look on his face sets me off again. My phone pings again, and he sits up.

"Who all did you send that to?" he demands, and I grin wickedly.

"Everyone. I even sent it to Remus' brother." In a group chat.

"Ooh, I hate you," James says darkly, standing. He steps on a piece of wood and I laugh at it cracks and sends him sprawling. He doesn't collapse again, but it's still funny to watch as his anger builds. "And I hate your lack of money for decent furniture."

Here, I shrug. "You could buy me stuff," I offer, and in his fury, he nods enthusiastically.

"And I will. This is ridiculous."

"I will never let you forget it," I declare. "And besides, you now owe me a table."

He groans. "I really hate you."

"You love me. Otherwise we wouldn't have been friends this long."

"Hm. I suppose." His eyes grow wide and he stands upright, wisely stepping away from the mess. "You'll be godfather?" he asks, and I shrug.

"Sure. But you have to actually produce a kid, James."

He rolls his eyes. "We did. Or, Lily is. She's pregnant again."

"And are you happy about it?"

Because that comes before the kid, always. James is my priority here.

He tilts his head from side to side in consideration before he shrugs. "Maybe? Better off now, anyway. We moved up the wedding to next month anyway. So that we're more stable this time."

"Oh yeah? Am I your best man?"

"Duh," James says. "I didn't think that would be a question. You're my brother after all."

"No sappiness, Jimmy-boy!" I chirp, and he scowls and swings at my head. I duck with a bark of laughter. "Hey, so. What kind of table are you buying me?"

He turns his scowl to the pile of wood behind him. "The kind that won't break. He blinks at the wood, and then looks a little harder. "I think I have an idea."

…

 _December 1st, 2010_

 _Hey._

 _Hi. What's up?_

 _Let's go to dinner._

I glance at the Slowest Clock in the Universe. _Tonight?_ I ask, then stuff my phone under the counter as the back door opens.

"Come help me!" my boss calls. I groan inwardly and drag myself from behind the register and push the door open. My boss- Sheryl- has boxes surrounding her, full of videotapes, and she gestures to them widely. "Bring these up front. I want to start changing out some of the merchandise and taking things down to bring in new things. I want to- you know… spice it up."

Oh, I didn't need to ever hear that sentence from the old bat's mouth. "Of course," I say. "What kind of new things?"

I lift a box and nearly drop it, it's so heavy, but I manage. "Figurines and things like that."

"Antique ones? Do you need me to scout some?"

She blinks at me, surprised, and nods. "Actually, that would be great. Make yourself useful for once."

And we can't go one conversation without an insult. "Right," I say, taking the box up to the front. The bell rings just in time, and a woman walks in, looking hesitant. "Hi," I greet. "I'll be right with you."

"Thanks," I hear as I put the box down near the horror section, in accordance with the label on the top of the box, a taped down index card.

I kick it to get it firmly in the corner and it scrapes along the dirty floor. God, I really need to invest in a broom since Sheryl seems unwilling to. Which is odd, since she is so anal retentive about every other part of this good-for-nothing place.

Thinking of her makes me push the thought of doing much else for her from my mind. But then I think, maybe she's pay me extra.

I'll get the broom from my apartment.

I walk over to the woman, and then do a double take. "If it isn't Mary MacDonald," I say, surprised.

"Sirius Black," she says in return, voice warm. I pull her into a hug and she laughs into my shoulder. "I never knew what happened between you three and my Peter," she says.

"Ah," I breathe, pulling from her. "He sold James out to… someone quite unfavorable in a bad part of town… I wouldn't worry about it. How is he?" I ask out politeness only, seething quietly at the mention of the rat.

"I wouldn't know," Mary says airily. "He's in jail."

I laugh, and her eyes glint. "And you?" she inquires. "How are you?"

Shrugging, I look around and then raise my eyebrows at her. "I work here," I say quietly. "How good could I possibly be?" Her smile is faint.

"I'm actually glad you work here because you know me. You won't blink when I ask for-"

"Porn?" I guess, and she flushes. "Mary, I thought you were a lady," I say, clutching my chest, chuckling.

"Oh, hardly," she waves me off, "Just point me to it and then to documentaries."

I snort. "Quite the combo," I mutter.

"Shut up."

My phone pings.

"Sirius! What have I told you about that phone!"

I sigh. Mary snickers and I shove her slightly, only making her laugh harder. "I don't have it on me!" I call. I can practically hear the woman bristle. "I'm with a customer," I say next, and the blasted woman says nothing more.

"Charming," Mary comments. I shrug.

"Here you go," I stop in front of her desired genre, and then point to the stuff behind me. "Farthest section near the door for the porn. We don't have a lot, sadly."

"Aw, fine," she waves at me again in a shooing motion. "Go talk to your friend."

"You're a blessing," I kiss her cheek and go behind the register again really quickly, opening my phone with the password and then reading the message from Remus.

 _I really want fast-food. And I look like a loser if I go alone._

I roll my eyes. _Fine, fine. Crappy food a-la romance._

 _Exactly._ He answers. _McDonald's._

"Sirius! Come help me with these boxes!"

I sigh.

…

 _I actually have something I want to ask you._

 _Uh-oh,_ Remus types, looking anxious all of a sudden.

I shake my head. Then I reply with, _Do you want to be my date to James and Lily's wedding? It's in two weeks. Small ceremony. Just a plain shirt and slacks are fine. He's not even wearing a tux and she's wearing her work dress. They'll have a larger ceremony will proper stuff in January, like they planned, but Lily apparently couldn't wait that long._

Remus smiles, his anxious expression fading. _Sounds exciting. Of course I'll go._

I smile back, relieved.

…

 _December 10_ _th_ _, 2010_

"And that's it," my teacher signs. "You've all passed the exam, so it wasn't a waste of your time."

I breathe a sigh of relief. Finally over. I get to surprise Remus in time for Christmas. No more texting. And my wallet will thank me. No more going over the texting limit. Starting in January.

Along with the rest of the students, I take my leave.

My cab is waiting for me when I step out into the cold, sharp air, my feet into a thin layer of snow. It's hardly the pretty snow, it's dark and brown in many places, disturbed by flows of people and the sun. it's kind of irritating, but it's a good day today, with no work and the last day of this class. I don't think on it.

The cab is warm, and I shiver as I take a seat and rattle off my address. Then I change my mind. I know what else to get Remus for Christmas.

"Actually, can you take me to the nearest hardware store?" I ask, and he nods.

"One right up the street here," he informs me, putting the car in gear and driving away.

Music plays quietly from the front seat and I stare out the window, calm. People outside are walking with their heads covered by fluffy hoods and scarves from the biting wind, bags on their arms and snow flecks on their ankles. Typical for this season. It was always my favorite- the one time a year I could see my similarly estranged family members Andromeda and Alphard, and later, it meant a lot of time with James' family and time off school.

This year, I'll be spending Christmas Eve with Remus and Christmas Day with James and Lily, along with most of their friends. It'll be new for sure.

But change is good, I think. It's a good thing.

I hop out of the car as it pulls up to the curb, handing the driver a few Euros. He nods his thanks and pulls back into traffic, and I turn around and look at the store.

Quiet and small, but it'll do. I walk inside and head right for the back, where they keep a key press.

I pick up a generic green key, his favorite color, and hand it to the lady behind the counter, who was eyeing me with boredom. "Thanks," she mutters as I hand over my apartment key, and she heads to the cutter, staring at them.

It takes a few minutes and a lot of noise, but she hands the keys back and says, "Three forty eight at the register up front, or you can pay here," she offers.

"I'll just pay here," I say, getting out my wallet.

It's not enough, not nearly, but I'll find something else to get him. But not too much more since he'll kill me over the expense of the class as it is. James eventually let me pay him back once I'd finished saving up for it, though not without some serious grouching. "You're broke. Stop being stubborn," he'd said.

"I'm not a charity case," I'd told him, and he scoffed but let it go.

I finish at the hardware store and hail another cab to take me back to my apartment.

…

 _December 12_ _th_ _, 2010_

An arrow pierces my window and nails itself in my wall.

I'm not sure about the process it took to get me up from my mattress to the shower to the kitchenette, but I know I'm awake now.

 _Ask your boy-toy about Nymphadora_

 _-BC, Jr._

My blood runs cold.

…

 _December 18_ _th_ _, 2010_

It haunts me for the next several days, but I have to fix my window and bug James about a table, and now, it's his wedding day and I'm standing in a courthouse, signing the marriage certificate as their witness.

Lily cheers and grapples James in a hug, and he beams, scrunching his eyes closed as he holds her tightly. Her roses dangle from her fingers, and she's crying and so is he, and I roll my eyes and pretend I'm not.

I haven't seen them so happy in a long ass time.

Remus clutches my hand and smiles, eyes light, and across the room, Lily's Maid of Honor Alice waves at us, winking. She's married, for god's sake, I remember her wedding. It had been much more grand than this, with the both of them being nobles themselves.

"Lily, Lily, we're married. You're my wife," James says, and she nods, red hair bouncing in the bun she's tied it into, and she chokes back a sob, eyes alight.

"And you're my husband." James lets out a whoop and lifts her bridal style to leave the courthouse. The minister is smiling behind his glasses, a strangely familiar twinkle in blue eyes.

I salute him and take Remus' hand again, pulling him out after James and Lily. Alice links her arm with mine, and I grin at her.

"You ever seen him like this?" she asks, and I nod.

"Once. When she agreed to a date after years of him chasing her through school." Alice laughs.

"Sounds about right." She looks at Remus and then back to me. "And you? Are you planning on keeping this relationship of yours?"

"Uh, yeah," I say, somewhat offended on Remus' behalf. "I'm completely in love with him."

"And is he in love with you?"

"I've met his parents, and I'm spending Christmas Eve with his family. So obviously I mean something. He says he loves me. I believe it."

"Hey," Alice says, stopping me. Remus pauses, walking ahead until he realizes I'm not at his side. He cocks his head in question and I wave him away. He hesitates, then follows after James and Lily again.

"I'm not trying to cause a problem here," Alice says. "I- we've been friends a long time, Sirius. We're drinking buddies. And I don't plan on seeing you hurt."

I scoff. "You'd better not be drinking," I say, ignoring most of it.

She grins, her hand pressing her still-flat belly. "Yeah. I know it. Doesn't change the past, though. And you're ignoring the rest of my sentence."

She really does know me too well. "I know," I sigh. "I just. I don't want to plant the idea in some random passerby's head that I want Remus out of my life, and tempt the universe. I want him to stay." I shrug. "I have fantasized about asking him to marry me, but it's too soon for that anyway."

"Six months, right?" Alice checks, and I nod. "Longer than anything you've ever had," she remarks.

"Yeah, really. I want to keep it going."

"Then go get him. He's waiting," she says, pointing to him. "Consider him approved."

I grin and kiss her cheek. "Thanks, Alice."

She rolls her eyes. "Don't screw it up. I've been talking with him all day and he's a sweetheart and you're totally not."

"Shut up."

She laughs.


End file.
